Hello~ Thanks to all those who faved, followed, reviewed this story so far. It means a lot :) I have updated the summary of the story now that I am firm on the direction it will be heading. Have fun reading this chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that looks familiar to the world of Harry Potter.


Something was a little off. Hermione couldn't quite put her finger as to what it was that bothered her. The students seemed like their usual selves. If anything, the topic of the damned photo was no longer of interest to anyone. The castle itself didn't seem to be disturbed by external intruders; she had checked and double-checked the wards to see if there were any breaches.

Snape was back in his seat at mealtimes and they shared the same amount of conversation as usual. Nothing too tedious, nothing too dry; the latest publication of a new potion, warning which problematic child to keep an eye on or sometimes her seeking his opinion on the best way to teach certain topics.

Her Defence Against the Dark Arts classes were not quite straightforward. The last professor had accidentally used an Unforgiveable on a muggle-born student. Hermione had no idea how Minerva handled the whole situation though apparently that student had transferred to another school of magic. Ilvermony. So the Hogwarts DADA syllabus had been revamped to prevent similar accidents in the future. Now, there were separate lessons and books for theory and for practical; the Unforgiveables came under the theory syllabus only, along with many other dangerous spells.

As Hermione sat with Pomona Sprout to discuss the decorations in the staffroom (Flitwick was in the middle of classes), she decided the strange feeling she might have been having could be due to the upcoming anniversary event. Nerves, perhaps. Her perfectionist self wanted everything to be in order.

" –mione?"

She jolted from her thoughts. "Sorry, Pomona. You were saying?"

"I'm thinking of retiring at the end of this school year, dear. I've written to Neville and he has agreed to take over my position as Herbology professor." The older woman smiled. "At least I know the plants will be in safe hands."

"That's lovely of Neville," replied Hermione. "But I would be really sorry to see you leave. It's been wonderful working with you so far."

Pomona smiled. "It's not the last day yet, dear. You can save your pretty speech for my farewell."

Hermione laughed. Then she took Pomona's hand in hers. "Neville will do you proud, I'm sure. This would be like a dream for him."

"Of his capabilities, I have no doubt. However, I'm certain he has other reasons for accepting," she smiled knowingly.

Hermione tilted her head. "What other reason?"

"You, of course."

Hermione blushed at the implication just as she heard a familiar, faint snort from the opposite corner. Her eyes fell upon Snape and the Muggles Studies professor, Chérie Dujardin, who were supposed to be discussing the security arrangements for the event. For a moment, she wondered if Snape had overheard their conversation. But he hadn't looked at them and he seemed to be listening attentively to Chérie Dujardin.

"Now, as I was suggesting, perhaps we could put some holly over here …" continued Pomona but Hermione's thoughts had, once again, taken off in a different direction.

What was Minerva thinking when she assigned Snape to be in charge of security? And what was Snape thinking when he chose the Muggles Studies professor to assist him? Surely Hermione, as the DADA professor, had more claim to that responsibility?

Chérie Dujardin's hand seemed to float up gently, closer towards Snape's arm. Her fingers stretched out as if … as if she was about to slide them into the crook of Snape's arm.

A loud crash interrupted the conversations in the room. Pomona jumped in her seat, her hat falling off her head. Snape had sprang up, his wand already in his hand. Chérie Dujardin clutched her chest, face completely in shock.

Hermione waved her hands as if to calm them down. "Sorry, everyone. Just a little mess here." She pulled out her wand and waved it. Her mug flew back onto the table, the pieces joining together as they finally landed as if it wasn't broken just a few seconds ago. The mess from her drink had vanished from sight. Nothing was out of place.

"Be more careful, Granger," muttered Snape as he took his seat again.

Whatever that had been happening between Snape and Chérie Dujardin seemed to have been broken. They now sat apart – too far apart for any sneaky handsy – poring over a large map and marking things as they went along.

"Are you alright? Sorry for the scare," said Hermione apologetically.

Pomona shook her head. "I'm fine, dear. Here, let's have some tea. Straight from my greenhouse."

With a wave of her wand, a pot of freshly brewed mint tea appeared in front of them and the discussion continued as if nothing had happened to interrupt it.

-.-.-.-

That evening, Hermione retired to her quarters after an early dinner. Snape was not at the table again so there was no one to talk to. No one to delay her dinner. The route back to her office was also quite deserted even though she had to pass many doors and stairs all the way up to the sixth floor. While the front door leading to her office was visible to those who needed to consult with her, the main entrance to the living quarters could be accessed via the painting of a random countryside at the corner of the corridor without passing through the office.

When she arrived at Hogwarts before the start of her new job, Minerva had taken her to see the DADA office space. But Hermione had no desire to use the adjoining office connected to the DADA classroom for various reasons. Thankfully, Minerva had been kind enough to let her use the unoccupied office on the sixth floor. It was much larger than the actual office space allocated for the DADA professor.

After a quick shower, Hermione reclined in a plush armchair in her lounge as she studied the markings and scribbles Pomona (and later, Flitwick) had made on their sketches for the decorations. A soft tap on the window drew her attention. A cute, round owl bearing a letter was waiting outside the window.

She let it in, shivering at the brief draught of cold air and shut the window tight. The owl stuck its leg out expectantly and hooted. Hermione untied the letter and expected to let the owl go but it waited as if it required a response immediately. So she placed a small bowl of treats in front of it before opening the letter to read.

Dear Hermione

I hope this letter finds you well.

The last I saw you was at Ron's wedding and we didn't get a chance to catch up. Since I will be in Diagon Alley the coming weekend for some errands, I was wondering if you'd be able to catch a break and grab dinner with me at The Bear & Staff on Saturday around 6 p.m.? I suppose muggle clothing would be in order for that place.

I'd like to write more but I fear that once I start I won't be able to stop.

Awaiting your reply.

Neville Longbottom

The letter was a pleasant surprise and Hermione saw no reason why she wouldn't be able to meet him. She scribbled off a quick reply and let the small owl soar back out again. For a brief moment, she wondered if Pomona Sprout was right when she suggested that Hermione was the reason why Neville accepted the job offer.

From what Hermione knew, Neville began his job as a healer at St. Mungo's right after completing his N.E.W.T.s. His greatest wish was to cure his parents so Hermione couldn't see how she could be any more important than his parents for him to switch careers.

She shook her head. He was sweet and caring to all his friends. She made a note to inform Minerva that she wouldn't be available on the coming Saturday night before going back to her previous task of scrutinising the decoration plans. If only she had paid a little more attention when Pomona was talking earlier!